Neithawen's Deception
by EarthAngel Jenna
Summary: A girl and her father depart from Lothlorien to Mirkwood. The learn of battle far off. Neithawen, a young girl of 800, wants to help fight. She masquerades as a he-elf and joins the army, where she meets Legolas, the prince of Mirkwood...
1. Chapter 1: Departure from Lothlorien

Hello there, this is Yeuua. Please read and enjoy my story. And if you don't mind, I could use some reviews so I know how my story is. Thanks-Yeuua Summoner  
  


Neithawen's Deception

**Departure from Lothlórien**

"You have my blessing. Go forth, and be not perilous in your journey, Maeglin. And you also, Neithawen," Galadriel, blessed Elf-queen of Lothlórien said. She kissed Maeglin on the forehead, and he bowed. As he walked to the edge of the dais, Neithawen made to follow, but Galadriel held her back, leaned close, and whispered in her ear, "_I edhel aphadhe i vâd o auth_." Galadriel then kissed Neithawen on the forehead, just as she had done Maeglin, and together Neithawen and Maeglin bowed and left the dais.

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        Neithawen woke up with a start, a cold sweat drenching her body. She sat up, trying to catch her breath. She glanced over at her father, Maeglin. She saw he was still lying on his back, eyes open, lithe hands folded across his breast. He took no notice of her, however. _He must be asleep_, she thought to herself. For that is the fashion in which Elves sleep. 

        Neithawen glanced at her surroundings. She saw nothing but trees for many miles. She and her father had traveled from Lothlórien the morning before last, and had reached the realm of Mirkwood that morning. _I should still be able to see the border of Mirkwood_, she thought,_ even in the dark of night. She squinted into the darkness._ Hmm, there must be some force at work that shields my vision._ She felt a little uneasy, but lay back down upon her back, folded her hands, and tried to sleep. But sleep did not come easily. Neithawen thought of what had awoken her. She had been dreaming. Dreaming of battle. Just thinking of it now chilled her. But one thing she remembered as clearly as if it weren't a dream. An elf, tall and elegant, with blonde hair. She suddenly remembered what Galadriel had said to her the morning before last:__ I edhel aphadhe i vâd o auth. "The she-elf follows the war path." She wondered what this was supposed to mean. Did Galadriel foresee something? But she-elves did not go to war, and certainly not ones that were only 800 years old. As she wondered, her thoughts strayed back to the blonde elf. She thought of him as she drifted off to the place that which no man will ever know. _

**The next morning…**

        "Neithawen, you must arise. The sun is up, and we must get to Thranduil's place before long. I have just foreseen a mighty battle. Come, we must hurry," Maeglin said. He was moving swiftly through the crisp morning air, packing their things.  "Here, have some _lembas bread. It will sustain you until we arrive." He handed her a small package wrapped in a mallorn-leaf of Lothlórien. Inside there was a thick wafer-like piece of bread. This magical cake provided an amazing vigor and carried the body and spirit far._

        Neithawen hurriedly broke of a corner of the _lembas_ and took a bite. She immediately felt heat spread through her body as if she had taken a drink of ale. She placed the rest of the bread into her knapsack and slung it onto her back. Maeglin was already a few strides ahead of her. "Come, Neithawen. Hurry." 

        "Coming, _ada," she said. She walked quickly to catch up with him. _

        As she walked beside him, she thought about last night. '_Father said that he had foreseen battle. And Galadriel said something about a war path. What does all this mean? Surely they are linked.' But how? _Her father startled her out of her thoughts. 

        "What is on your mind, _iell nin_?" Maeglin inquired. 

        "Nothing, _ada._ Just thinking of…well, it's nothing." But Neithawen was sure that he did not believe her. He hesitated before he spoke.

        "Thranduil's Realm is not much further. A few more hours and we'll arrive."

        Neithawen shifted her knapsack and walked on.


	2. Chapter 2: Many Meetings

**Neithawen's Deception**

Many Meetings

        Neithawen looked up as she saw the trees start to lessen in density. 

        "Welcome, my daughter, to the Realm of Mirkwood." Maeglin said as he smiled. 

        Neithawen stared in awe that was the beauty of the King's Realm. It was an open space in the midst of a dense grove of trees on all sides. The ground was thick with beautiful flowers and brush. Each tree seemed to radiate its own individual personality. Each leaf, each branch, each tiny piece of bark shone with beauty. 

        Neithawen's eye caught a sudden movement to her left. She turned to find a deer daintily eating a leaf from a bush. It lifted its brown head and gazed at Neithawen with deep amber eyes. Neithawen kept eye contact with the deer until she felt the deer inside of her; that she could feel what it was thinking. _War is upon us. Flee, child. Go. Then the deer turned and bounded back into the thicket of trees._

        "Neithawen, come." Neithawen turned to see her father surrounded by 4 men with bows, although they weren't drawn. Each man wore brown boots, light green leggings, and light brown shirts. Their quivers were attached with 3 straps reaching around all sides of their chests. Their arrows were sleek and shiny, the fletching made of pure white feathers from some unknown bird. They watched her, patiently waiting. "We have been summoned to the King. Come and meet Thranduil."

        Neithawen's eyes snapped back to her father. "Yes, _ada_." The guards turned and led the way. As she walked, Neithawen remembered the story of Thranduil and her father. They had been friends since childhood. Long ago did they explore Middle Earth together, wandering to and fro, learning new things and meeting new people. When at last they came to Lothlórien, Maeglin found that he could not leave. So he and Thranduil parted on the best of terms, and Thranduil made his way back to Mirkwood to rule as the Elven king. Maeglin had met Neithawen's mother in Lothlórien, and Neithawen was born. Neithawen seemed to recall that her father had once told her that Thranduil had had a son. She couldn't quite remember the name. _No matter. I'm sure I'll meet him soon enough. _

        Maeglin and Neithawen followed the guards into the palace. If the outside had been beautiful, it was nothing compared to the inner part of the palace. The flagged stone floors were polished and smooth; the walls were decorated with the most beautiful artwork that Neithawen had ever seen. She passed a sculpture made from gold and silver, and stopped to look at it. She marveled at its beauty, its luster. The gold was rich and thick, the silver was like so many reflective pools. All was entwined around itself in such a manner that Neithawen could hardly believe it had been crafted by any hand, even the incredible craftsmanship of the Elves. She turned to see her father approaching a tall, blonde elf wearing very kingly attire. His face was beautiful, yet grim.

        "_Mae govannen, Maeglin. How wonderful it is to see you again. How long has it been?" Thranduil asked, placing a hand on Maeglin's shoulder. Maeglin returned the embrace._

        "Too long, _mellon nin, _too long." 

        Thranduil's eyes fell upon Neithawen for the first time. "And who is this beautiful young elf?" he asked, smiling at Neithawen.

        "My daughter, Neithawen." 

        "So very pleased to meet you, my Lord Thranduil," Neithawen said, bowing to him.

        "Do not suggest to me that you have created such a lovely being, Maeglin. It is just not possible," Thranduil came forward and pulled Neithawen into a standing position. He was much taller than her. She felt very nervous. His eyes, however, gave her comfort. They were deep and caring, filled with knowledge and wisdom unknown to many.

        "Welcome to the Realm of Mirkwood, Neithawen, daughter of Maeglin."


	3. Chapter 3: The War of Rhun

Neithawen's Deception

The War of Rhun

The preparations for battle began immediately.

        "War has come to the East. The Sea of Rhun has been attacked by men of the mountain, from Esgaroth. They have sent a messenger to ask for our aid. Thus, we shall be sending all available Elves to help." Thranduil sat upon his throne, richly embellished with gold and silver, thickly upholstered with dark red velvet. The headband upon his head was an entwinement of small ribbons of multi-faceted silver, and whenever the sunlight touched it, sparks of heaven would be set free.

        "Yes, my Lord Thranduil." The warrior by Thranduil's throne set off down the hall of the throne room. 

        "I must know, my dear friend, will you be joining me in the fight?" Thranduil asked Maeglin. "I do not ask you to come."

        "Of course I come. I help defend innocent lives. What do you take me for, some kind of savage?" Maeglin said, a laugh playing around the crinkles of his eyes. 

        "But what of your daughter?"

        "She shall stay here, with your women. She can care for herself. My Neithawen is brave and cunning. If she were not a woman, I would bid that she comes along." Maeglin smiled inwardly. "But what of your son? He was born near the same time as Neithawen, was he not?"

        "Yes, my son was born 50 years before Neithawen. Legolas is his name."

        "And will he be journeying with us to Rhun?"

        "I know not. That is his decision to make," Thranduil said.

        "Well, in any case, I should like to meet him."

        "It can be arranged, my friend." Thranduil smiled. 

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        Neithawen watched out the window. Everywhere she could see, Elves were preparing for battle. A few were gathering all spare quivers, their arrows' fletching as white as snow, and loading them onto a horse-drawn cart. Others were piling swords into another cart. The beautiful horses, mostly white in color, snorted and tossed their heads playfully. She was particularly drawn to one horse, off to the side of the group of warriors. It was grey-white, with dappled hindquarters. Its eyes were deep and soulful. It tossed its head and snorted as an elf came up to it and placed his hand upon its nose. 

        If she had been interested in the horse, it was nothing compared to the interest she felt towards the elf. He was tall, with long, blonde hair, and deep, beautiful blue eyes. '_Blonde hair, blue eyes, tall… Who does that remind me of?' _But she couldn't place a name to the picture. No doubt it was one of the many suitors she had had in Lothlórien. They were all the same. All were nice enough, but not what she dreamed for, what she hoped for. 

        Her attention drifted back to the elf and horse. She watched him for a few more moments. Suddenly he stiffened. He turned toward her window and saw her standing there, watching. She continued to gaze down at him. The sight of his face was amazing. He was, in essence, beauty itself. No other elf she had seen compared with the beauty of this he-elf. In fact, nothing she had ever seen compared. She was breathless.

        He stood, his face calculating, his expression one of wonder. Then he smiled softly and turned back to the horse.

        Neithawen turned away from the window and sat down. '_I'm sure that's the elf in my dream,'_ she thought. '_But who is he?' _

        A knock on her chamber door startled her.

        "Yes?" she called.

        "Neithawen, may I speak with you?"

        "Of course, _ada_. Come in." Neithawen moved toward the door as 

it opened and Maeglin entered. 

        "I must tell you, I have decided to go to war. Thranduil needs all that can be spared. We hope that we will not be gone long. You will stay here with the others that are left behind."

        The phrase 'left behind' seared her flesh and pricked at her heart. "But _ada, I can fight. You know I can. I am a better archer than most men it Lothlórien. You mustn't make me stay!" _

        Maeglin sighed. The pleading in Neithawen's eyes almost broke his heart. "No, _iell nin, you must stay." He turned toward the door. "I'm sorry." He opened the door and left Neithawen alone to her thoughts._

        '_No,' thought Neithawen. '__I will not be left behind.'_


	4. Chapter 4: Legolas

Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this. There is still more to come!

Neithawen's Deception

**Legolas**

        Neithawen's preparations began immediately. She gathered up all of her weaponry, supplies, and other things she would need. Her quiver, with its beautiful silver etching in the shape of a swan, the symbol of the beautiful Galadriel, was filled with the white-fletched arrows of Mirkwood. She checked the edge of her sword. It was sharp and ready for battle. The inscription on the blade gave the sword the name of Heleg-Raw, or Ice-Lion. She ran her hand along the flat of the blade, feeling the engraved elven script under her slender fingers.

        Neithawen sighed and slipped the sword back into its sheath. She knew what she must do if she was really going to masquerade as a male elf. And it would not be an easy task. Elf eyes are not easy to fool. 

        Neithawen laid her sword down upon the bed and moved towards the door. She quietly opened it and exited. '_Now all I have to do,'_ she thought, '_is to find someone who can tell me where the laundry is.' _She wandered the beautiful corridors for a moment, trying to spot someone who looked like they would know where to find washed clothing.

        She finally saw someone with a woven basket of clothing. She approached the elf and asked, "Excuse me, but you couldn't lead me to the laundry, could you? I sent my clothing that I traveled in down to be washed, but they haven't come back yet, and I would like to check on them." She smiled broadly and turned on her elf-charm. The elf was persuaded easily. 

        "Of course, _hiril_," he said, and beckoned her to follow.

        He led her down a series of paths that wound left and right, ever going downwards. They soon left the beautiful halls, and slowly the walls surrounding them were made of earth, packed down tightly after many thousands of years' use. 

        They emerged into a cave area, far below the halls of Thranduil, filled with the beautiful clothes of the Elves. Most were on tables, either folded or waiting to be folded. Others were hanging, mostly dresses. "Yours will probably be over there, _hiril__," said the elf, pointing towards the dresses. "Or," he said, "your underthings there." He again pointed, this time to a table next to the far cavern wall, laden with underdresses and other things._

_'Now,'_ Neithawen thought, _'I just have to get him to leave.' _Fortunately, she didn't have to try hard at all.

"Will you be all right, _hiril__, if I leave? I must go back and get more clothes. If you'd like me to wait, I can, but if not, on your way back up, just don't take any side paths and you will come back above ground," he said, gathering up some clothes._

"No, you may leave. I'll be fine. _Hannon le._" He smiled as he started walking up the corridor.

'_Ok, now I must find some clothes of a warrior. It shouldn't be too hard.' She tried to remember the clothes that she had seen on the men outside. She looked for dark browns and greens. Her elf eyes scanned the room quickly until her eyes landed on something peculiar. It was a garment of purple-blue, like the color of the clear night sky, lying in a dark forgotten corner. She walked over to it._

Upon closer examination, she saw that is was a scarf made from a light, floaty material, see-through and yet thick. She looked around at the other clothes again. _'There doesn't seem to be anything else like it around,' _she thought. _'If it is just lying here in the corner, away from everything else, it apparently doesn't belong to anyone._' She quickly slipped it into her pocket and started looking for clothes again.

She saw them folded on a table nearby. There were the standard issue brown shirts and pants, with the light green overshirt. She picked up the smallest she could find of each of these and wrapped them in a light-colored dress. Next, she looked for boots. In a corner she found some, small, light, and well made. She tried on a pair or two, chose the ones that fit best, and wrapped it the in the dress also.

Neithawen glanced around for more things, but she couldn't see anything else that she needed. She made her way to the opening of the passage just as another person was coming out. 

"Excuse me," Neithawen said, not even looking up.

"No, please excuse me," said a distinctly male voice. Neithawen almost thought she recognized it. Her head shot upwards, and she saw the elf from her dreams. His beauty was even more pronounced close up. His dark, shapely eyebrows contrasted greatly with his blonde hair. His eyes were an amazing shade of azure. She could feel rather than see his chest rising and falling with every breath. And his lips. Her eyes focused on them for a few moments before she realized what she was doing. Her eyes snapped up to his. "I, um, sorry." She was immediately embarrassed.

"Please do not be sorry. It was not your fault." Neithawen stood, unmoving, locked in his gaze, saying nothing. Finally, after many long moments, she broke the silence. 

        "Well, I must be going," she said, and sidestepped around him, making her way back up the path.


	5. Chapter 5: Preparations

Okay, all, here is the fifth chapter. Please read and enjoy, and if you don't mind giving your opinion, review! ~Yeuua~ Oh yeah, also, the reason it's taking me so long to get each chapter up is because I put the up as I write them. So I don't even know how this story is even going to turn out! Hehe, so helpful, I am!  
  


Neithawen's Deception

**5. Preparations**

        Neithawen made her way up the path to the halls. She could feel his eyes upon her back as she wound through the tunnels. All she could think of was, '_who is he? I should have asked him his name.' _But then she realized that would have been a foolish thing to do. '_If I had asked him for his name, he would have asked me for mine. And I can't let anyone know who I am. Any one else, that is.' _

        She emerged back into the main building, and, making sure that no one was around, slipped back into her room unnoticed. Her next preparations would be harder to accomplish. Her hair, now down past her lower back, would have to be shortened. And styled in a less feminine way. Her mind strayed to when she used to watch her father do up his hair. 

        "The key is," he would always say, "is to make yourself handsome, not beautiful. That way, it's more masculine."

        Neithawen sighed. It would be hard to cut her hair, not only in a physical manner, but emotional as well. Her hair was the mark of her beauty, red-golden in color, a shade not normally found in elves. She wondered if anyone else would realize that she and her male counter-part were the same people. Maybe if she just avoided her father, it'd be all right.

        Her thoughts turned to how she would accomplish this. It wasn't going to be as easy as she had hoped. She had the clothes, she would soon have the hair, but how was she to explain away her sudden appearance and readiness to fight. She hoped that she could come just before they depart, and no one would ask. She sighed.

        A knock at her door startled her. "Come in," she called.

        An elf opened the door slightly. "My lady," he said, "you are summoned before the King."

        "Oh. Yes, one moment, please." The messenger shut the door and Neithawen looked into the small mirror over the mantle piece. _'Well,'_ she thought to herself, _'if there was ever a time that I needed to look feminine, it's now'. She pulled up her hair quickly and in the most feminine way she knew how, and put on her most feminine dress, a long blue one with white lace trim and a sweepingly low neckline. She glanced in the looking glass one more time, and opened the door. The messenger was still waiting there, standing in a relaxed position against the wall. _

        "Ready, _hiril__?" he asked, straightening up. _

        "I believe so, yes." She paused for a second. "Do you know what it is the King requests of me?"

        "I believe he would like you to meet his son, Legolas," the messenger replied casually. 

        They arrived in the entrance hall to Thranduil's throne room. Neithawen stepped through the tall, grandly carved doors, and approached the king. Her father, Maeglin, sat next to his throne.

        "You requested my presence, my lord?" Neithawen asked as she bowed slightly.

        "Yes, Neithawen, I did."

        "I am honored by it, King Thranduil," she said. "Thank you."

        "Please, none of the formalities. I would like you to meet my son, Legolas, although he does not regard my summons as you do, my lady." The King smiled at his own joke. "Please, Neithawen, sit down." He motioned to a chair near Maeglin's. 

        Neithawen sat down. Her father smiled at her. _'I must remember not to let him see me when I'm a soldier,'_ she thought. 

        Suddenly a door to the right side of the hall banged open, and in came the man she had bumped into down in the caves. He stopped in mid-stride and stared at her. It was a moment before he collected his thoughts. He pretended he hadn't recognized her. "You called for me, father?"

        "Yes, and you'd do well to come sooner. I want you to meet Maeglin, my friend of old, and his lovely daughter, Neithawen," King Thranduil said.

        "It is a pleasure, my lord Maeglin, to make your acquaintance." He bowed to Maeglin and smiled. Then he turned to Neithawen. "And you, lovely Neithawen. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance." He smiled softly and kissed her hand. Neithawen blushed. 

        "And I am honored to make yours, my lord Legolas," she said, bowing her head slightly. When she lifted her head, his eyes locked on to hers, like they had in the dark halls of the underground. He smiled again.

        "Well, Legolas, now that all the pleasantries are over, I need to ask you something," King Thranduil said.

        Legolas broke his gaze away from Neithawen's eyes. "What's that, _ada?" he asked, letting Neithawen's hand fall gently back to her side._

        "I need to know if you are coming to war with me. It is your decision alone, and I don't wish to rush you, but we are in a great hurry. I need to know your decision now," Thranduil said, a small frown playing around the corner of his eyes.  
  
        "Yes, _ada, I wish to go with you to war," Legolas said. His face, Neithawen thought, showed resignation, and a willingness to please._

        "You are sure? Very well, then, I ask that you lead the second company. My hands will be full with the first; I will need you," Thranduil said. 

        "Thank you, _ada_, I am honored." Legolas bowed and turned to leave. He halted for a second, his back to Neithawen, Thranduil, and Maeglin, and Neithawen could see his chest rise as though he was going to say something, but in a flash of dark green and blonde, he was out the door.


	6. Chapter 6: Spun Gold and Woven Dreams

Ok, chapter number six. It's quite a bit longer than the others, but enjoy!  Yeuua Summoner.  
  


Neithawen's Deception

**6. Spun Gold and Woven Dreams**

        Neithawen sat upright in her bed. The first halos of the sun had started to show above the crown of the horizon, but dawn had not yet broken. She put her hand to her brow and felt a thin sheen of sweat. As her breathing slowed, she thought about the dream that she had had again. The elf, whom she now new was Legolas, was fighting again, but this time she could see his face. He was pained, he didn't want to be fighting, but something else was written on his face. Knowledge of some kind, understanding. She wondered about it in the cool morning air.

        Knowing that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, Neithawen slipped out of bed and pulled on her dressing gown. As she wandered over to the slightly open window, her thoughts wandered elsewhere. She thought of her plans, and when they were to depart. '_Tomorrow is the day.'_ She would have to wait for the last moments before she left to cut her hair. Her plan was to gather all her gear and extra clothing in the dead of night, steal away on a horse, and then, at daybreak, when the host of elves were scheduled to leave, she would ride in at the last minute, declare that she wanted to fight, and hopefully she'd be able to enter the troop without being caught. With any luck, she'd be placed in Legolas' company, as her father would be traveling with Thranduil. 

        Neithawen felt a pang of hunger in her stomach. It had been since midday yesterday that she had eaten. She walked over to the small table near the door. A tray of neglected food lay upon it. Neithawen picked up a pear. As she bit into it, the juice flooded her mouth and she sighed. Although she new that going to war meant giving up simple pleasures such as waking up in the morning and taking a bite from a pear, the thought did not trouble her. She was ready for war, ready for battle. Neithawen turned around to see her reflection in the mirror above the washbasin. She saw a young girl of 800, in a soft blue dressing gown, holding a half-eaten pear. But fortunately, she was yet young enough that if she did cut her, don male clothing, and adopt a masculine manner, she could easily be mistaken for a male. She thanked sweet Elbereth for this gift, and turned away from the mirror, finishing her pear.

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        The day passed quickly, without much trivial event. It was almost nightfall when Neithawen was summoned to sup with the King, the Prince, and her father, whom she had seen neither hide nor hair of all day. She walked to the wardrobe and picked out the most feminine dress she owned, thus being totally opposite from how she would appear tomorrow. She put on the gown and walked to the mirror. Her red-gold hair was like spun gold in the fading daylight and candlelight of her room. 

        Neithawen's fingers slipped through her hair like a branch in a stream. It was waist-length, and the tips just barely curled around her fingers as she ran them through. Her lower lip started to tremble. Neithawen knew it was foolish, but she couldn't help but let the tear slide silently down her cheek. In naught but a few hours, all of her hair would be gone.

        Neithawen stared into the mirror for a few more moments, but, feeling the evening beginning to grow darker, she hastily put half of it up in a neat pile at the crown of her head, and the rest she left dangling down her back.

        She moved toward the door and sighed. By this time tomorrow, she would be on the road to war. 

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        Neithawen stepped into the private chamber where she would be supping with Thranduil, Legolas, and Maeglin. Her breath caught in her chest as she saw Legolas stand with the other men as she approached the table. He was wearing a long robe of pure, deep green, with dark brown leggings to match. His hair was a platinum blonde, held back as always with a fishtail braid on the top half and loose hair tumbling down his back. The sides were held away from his face by two braids over each ear. He looked stunning. 

        She smiled and was about to sit down in the vacant chair, which happened to be next to Legolas, when she remembered her manners. "King Thranduil, what an honor it is to be invited to your private table. I thank you." Neithawen inclined her head slightly and smiled. 

        "The honor is mine, Neithawen. Please, sit down," King Thranduil said, a smile playing around the corners of his lips. 

        Neithawen took her seat next to Legolas. He smiled softly at her for a moment, and looked back at the king. 

        "At what time do we depart tomorrow, _ada_?" Legolas asked.

        "At first light, my son, we shall begin to leave Mirkwood," Thranduil answered.

        A shadow crossed Legolas' face. His elven beauty wasn't marred in any way, but he seemed sad. Neithawen had to fight a strange urge to touch his rosy cheek in comfort.

        The servants came out with carts laden with sumptuous looking food. Beautiful trays overflowing with meats and cheeses; another set of trays with vegetables and fruits. Pitchers of various ales and wines were placed on the table with the platters, and the servants left the room. 

        The men piled great portions of food on their plates. Neithawen, however, didn't each much at all. Her thoughts were elsewhere as she tried to keep up with the polite conversation. Mostly her thoughts strayed towards Legolas. As he laughed and joked with his father and Maeglin, she watched his face. His beautifully chiseled cheekbones, his perfectly arched brows, gave her shivers. She was drawn from her thoughts, however, when her father turned the conversation to war.

        "You never told me, Thranduil. What is all this conflict about?" Maeglin asked.

        "Well, my friend, the men of Rhun are at war with people from the East. Orcs have also come to the aid of the East Men. In fact, they have almost completely taken over the fight," Thranduil said, his brows knitted together.

        "It almost seems as though they are trying to help," said Maeglin, "although we know that cannot be it."

        "It is not a personal fight. All the orcs care about is killing and destroying. There are no real motives for that which they do," Legolas said, his eyes glinting.

        "Yes, my son, perhaps you are right. But what we do will help the men of Rhun salvage all that they have worked hard to build. We will help them win this fight." Thranduil breathed deeply. "Whatever the reasons, we will fight, and we shall win."

        A door to Neithawen's left opened suddenly. A messenger came through with a bow and said, "My lord Thranduil, I'm sorry to trouble you, but the captain is in need of your council."

        "Can it not wait?" asked Thranduil, a frown forming on his handsome face.

        "The captain says that it is very important, sire. He also requested the presence of Lord Maeglin and Prince Legolas. I am sorry."

        Thranduil sighed. "Very well, we are coming."

        The three of them stood up from the table. "We are sorry, Lady Neithawen, to leave you thus. Please feel free to stay if you like," Thranduil offered.

        "Actually, King, I believe I shall retire for the night. Thank you again for inviting me to sup with you." Neithawen flashed a dazzling smile.

        "Our pleasure," Legolas said. He strode over to her and pulled her hand to his lips. "We are leaving in the morning, as you know, and I shall not be seeing you again until we return." A look of sadness flickered across his face, but the nonchalant and proper manner was back in a flash. "I thank you again for your company this evening." He released her hand. In it there was a small sheaf of parchment folded into a tiny square. She was surprised, but hid it from the others.

        "I hope you will grace us with your presence upon our return, my lady," Thranduil said. He began to stride towards her, and she hurriedly slipped the paper from her right hand to her left behind her back. He grasped her hand and kissed it.

        Neithawen inclined her head. "It will be an honor."

"Come, my son, let us leave them a moment." Thranduil motioned to the door. He and Legolas exited.

"My daughter, oh how I shall miss you," Maeglin said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. 

"And I you, _ada nin," Neithawen said, returning the hug. "What am I to do whilst you are away?"_

"Nothing of great importance, just help as best you can. I have a grave feeling Thranduil's people will need you. I have foreseen it, but it is very clouded." A shadow fell across Maeglin's face. "Now we must part, my daughter, but not for long. We shall return swiftly. I will miss you."

"Yes, _ada.__ I will be all right. __Gerich_ meleth nîn, ada."_ Neithawen withdrew from her father's embrace and smiled softly._

"I love you, too, Neithawen." Maeglin smiled and left.


	7. Chapter 7: In The Midnight Hour

All right, just for fair warning, there is a kissing scene in this chapter, and if you are opposed to all that stuff, then you should probably stop reading my story. As for those of you that enjoy all the smut *wink*wink* take heart, for there is more to come! ~Yeuua Summoner~

Neithawen's Deception

**In the Midnight Hour**

        Neithawen hurried to her room and quickly shut the door. The chair near the fire was piled with her war equipment. She hurriedly set it on the floor and sat down. Hastily she unfolded the note that Legolas had slipped into her hand. 

                        _Loveliest Lady Neithawen,_

_                                I wish to see you once again, before I leave for war._

_                        I would like to see you when we are not in the company of_

_                        our fathers. Should you wish to accept this invitation, meet_

_                        me at the trellis near the wishing pool at the highest point_

_                        of the moon._

_                                                Remembering your beauty,_

_                                                                        Legolas_

        Neithawen read and reread the note. A thousand questions raced through her mind. _'Should I go? Why does he want to see me? Will I still have time?' If she did go, that would give her but a few short hours before she was to meet him to prepare everything, and even less time to make the transformation. If she was to go, she couldn't cut her hair until after she had seen Legolas. And how long was he wanting to keep her there?_

        As the thoughts chased each other around in her head, Neithawen walked over to the open window and looked up. A slight breeze played around her dress and hair as she considered the moon. _'Just another hour or so before midnight,' _she thought. _'Mayhap if I get everything ready before I go to meet him, I can make it back here in time to finish the preparations.' _ She thought a bit longer. _'Well,' she convinced herself, '_if I were to refuse, then he would be disheartened. And we couldn't send a man off to war with that over his head.' _She smiled and tucked the letter away in a pocket of her dress._

        However, if she was going to meet Legolas, she must pack now. She sifted through the pile that was now on the floor to find her small pouch. This she filled with herbs and medicinal plants that she had gathered the day before. She had somewhat of a talent at healing, and who knows when someone will get injured, even an elf. Neithawen hoped that she could find more plants along the way, so she would be able to heal the men that were fighting when the elves arrived in Rhun. She also placed a few handkerchiefs and other small scraps of fabrics inside. 

        Neithawen placed the bag atop the washbasin stand, and turned toward the pile of things on the floor. She gathered up all of the clothes this time, and laid them out neatly on the bed. She hoped the clothes that she had gathered fit her well; she had not dared to try them on, for fear of someone walking in on her. Tonight she would just have to hope that people were too busy with war preparations to find it important to enter her room. All hope would be lost if she were to be discovered tonight. _'And as long as no one recognizes me, and I can make it out of here tonight with no one noticing, then I should be fine,'_ Neithawen thought. 

        She did not really understand her need go enter this foreboding war. Nor could she explain it. Something about it just pulled her there. She thought that part of it may have to do with the lady Galadriel and what she had said to Neithawen alone before she and Maeglin departed from Lothlórien.

        She strode over to the window once more. The moon was nearly at its peak, waning slightly in the night sky. Making a final check that everything was in order for when she returned, Neithawen moved toward the door and opened it. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

        Neithawen made her way through the halls leading to the gardens. She stepped outside to be greeted with the cool, crisp night air. She could just see an edge of the trellis from the path where she was. Her breath caught in her throat, cool and crisp. Soft, beautiful singing was floating over to her on the breeze. It was Legolas' voice, melodious and wonderful. A part of her awoke as she listened, and she had to stop for a moment. 

        _Ir__ Ithil amen Eruchîn_

_        menel-vîr síla díriel_

_        si loth a galadh lasto dîn!_

_A Hîr Annûn Gilthoniel, le linnon im Tinúviel._

The words he sang comforted her heart. She began to walk again, and as she approached, he stopped singing and turned. 

        "Ah, dearest Neithawen, how good it is to see you again." Legolas took her hand in his as he had done at dinner and kissed it. This time, however, he did not release it. As his head lifted from her hand, he gazed into her eyes. Neithawen's heart quickened. She felt as if it was pounding so hard as to be visible on the outside. She truly hoped not.

        "And you, my Prince," Neithawen said. 

        "Please, do not call me such, it pains me so. Call me Legolas," he said, his voice soft and beautiful.

        "Yes, Legolas." 

        "Oh, how I love hearing my name upon thy glorious lips," Legolas said, letting Neithawen's hand fall to her side and sliding his hand up her bare arm. Everywhere his fingers touched exploded in molten heat, spreading throughout her body. "Since you arrived I have thought of naught but you, the air around me yearns to be filled with your presence, your sweet scent—."

        Neithawen cut him short with a finger to his lips. They were soft and supple. "You speak my praise as though I were the Lady Galadriel of Lothlórien. But I am not, I do not wish you to think of me as such an unattainable entity," she said, a smile spreading across her lips. She ran her finger along his jaw bone.

        "An unattainable entity you are, sweet lady, for I dare not touch you, lest I mar your perfection. However, I do not think I can contain myself any longer." His hand came up to cup her face. She closed her eyes and turned her face into his palm.

        "Nay, and I would not wish you to," Neithawen said, "for I might die without your sweet caress." She opened her eyes to look into his. There was a silent question in their depths, but she could read it well. 

        "Kiss me."

        Legolas' hand slid back into Neithawen's hair, subtly pulling her head forward to meet his lips. The moment they touched, little fires ignited throughout her body. His lips were warm, resilient and yet yielding. Her hands came upon their own accord to rest on his arms. The muscles beneath the fine fabric of his shirt were smooth and solid.

        His lips parted slightly, allowing his tongue passage. She willingly opened her mouth to his gentle caress. His hand disentangled itself from her hair, shimmering gold in the moonlight above, near her right ear. The moment his fingers brushed against the pointed tip, she felt hot heat flood through her like a raging river. She crushed him to her, her arms sliding around his hard back to meet each other. His other arm encircled her waist, keeping them close.

        The hand that had touched her ear moved slowly down to her collarbone, stroking her heated flesh gently. His lips detached themselves from hers and slowly kissed down her chin to come to rest in the hollow of her throat. She arched her neck to allow him to move more freely. She opened her eyes and noticed the moon. It was too low in the sky for comfort.

        "My lord, I must be going, it is late. And you must get rest, as you shall be leaving tomorrow."

        Legolas' head lifted from Neithawen's neck. A puzzled look was on his face. "But, my lady, I—."

        "I must insist." Neithawen cupped his face in her hands and drew him towards her mouth once more. Their kiss was soft and tender, lingering. After a few moments, Neithawen pulled back and looked into Legolas' eyes. "I wish you well on your journey to Rhun, and may the grace of the Valar protect you." She smiled and pulled away from his embrace, bowing slightly. "And bring you safely back to me," she added.

        Legolas smiled. "I thank you, my lady, and I pray that I find you well upon my return. I will not linger there. Goodnight."

        "Goodnight." And with that, Neithawen turned and headed back up the path through the gardens. 


	8. Chapter 8: Leavetakings

Hello again, all. I hope you are enjoying my story. Sorry it's taking a while to put up, I am starting to have homework again. *sigh* No matter, I shall still find time for my wonderful readers!

Neithawen's Deception

**8. Leavetakings**

        Neithawen closed the door to her room behind her. Her heart pounded rhythmically in her chest. Involuntarily her hand touched her throat where Legolas' kisses had been. She sighed. 

        But now there were more pressing matters at hand. She walked to the mirror and began to remove the pins from her hair. As it poured around her face, she was reminded of Legolas and his touch, his fingers like a gentle breeze playing through her hair. 

        Neithawen picked up the brush and small cutting knife from the washbasin stand. She looked at both, saddened about what she had to do. But she must. With quick and diligent strokes she combed the lingering tangles from her smooth hair, making it lie flat against her back. She set the brush down and took a bunch of hair into her hand. Placing the knife about midback, she put pressure on the knife until she felt it give. Strands of her hair began to fall to the floor. Then it fell in larger groups. Finally, the majority of her hair lay at her feet. What was left was straight and sleek, ending a few inches below her shoulder line. Neithawen picked up the brush once more and began to get loose ends out. It seemed so odd to be brushing such a small amount of hair. 

        She glanced back in the mirror, and to her surprise, she was not looking back at herself, but inside the mirror stood a young boy, just old enough to be considered for war. She marveled at her luck for just one moment, and then turned away from the mirror.

        She decided to completely finish before she dealt with her hair. She picked up the leggings. The dark brown didn't suit her complexion, but she figured that would help with the masculinity. _'I mustn't think like that any longer. I am a male!'_ She chuckled slightly to herself, then stopped and sighed. Neithawen laid them back on the bed and slipped off her dress. 

        The leggings fit her nicely, although they were a little tight around the hips. They were a soft fabric, very pleasant to the touch. Next she picked up the brown undershirt, which was made of the same material. It fit very well. There was only one problem. Her breasts were a very obvious statement that she was a girl. She picked up the pouch containing her medical supplies and pulled out an extra long piece of cloth. This she wound around her chest until her breasts seemed like muscles.

        Picking up the shirt again, she pulled it over her head. She tucked it in to the leggings and picked up the light green overshirt. _'Now this goes with my complexion,'_ she thought, and giggled softly. Over the green shirt she put her fighting gear, such as her sword belt, her quiver with the swan design on the back, and her leather armguards. Neithawen stepped in front of the mirror once more.

        Her appearance was very masculine, yet young. She thanked Elbereth for her good fortune and smiled. Starting to turn away from the mirror, she looked down.

        The fallen hair at her feet glistened in the pale moonlight. She gathered it up in her hands and wondered what she should do with it. If she left it in the room, an attendant might find it and her efforts would be for naught. 

Neithawen had an idea. She stuffed the hair into a pouch, and slung the strap over her shoulder. _'I shall bury it in the garden under the trees. No one will find it there.' She left her room and headed for the gardens for the second time that night. _

        Yet again when she arrived out in the garden she was not alone. Legolas was there still, sweetly singing, tossing petals of flowers into the wishing pond.

        Neithawen froze in her tracks, the bag full of hair slung over her shoulder. Legolas stopped singing and glanced up. _'Oh no, I'm finished,' _she thought. But she kept very still anyway. Legolas' eyes scanned the shrubbery around them, and his eyes slid calmly over the place where she stood. _'Thank Elbereth,'_ she thought. _'I must be more careful.'_

        Legolas turned back to the fountain again, and resumed his song. Neithawen stood perfectly still and thought. She couldn't find a way to distract him long enough to make him leave. So she'd just have to confront him.

        Neithawen drew in a deep breath and exhaled, coming from behind the bushes. "Hello," she said, dropping her voice as low as sounded realistic. "I am called Teleadan. I have come from a remote place in Eriador where not many of our kind dwell. I heard of your war, and I stole away from my home to help your efforts. I wondered if you could tell me where to find the one who is in charge." Neithawen was amazed at how different she seemed, even to herself, than she had earlier that night, in this same place, no less.

        Legolas surveyed the boy. He believed this boy was about 500 years old, just barely old enough to survive on his own. Legolas couldn't explain it, but he felt a kinship toward this boy, some strange connection. He decided to take it as a sign that he must protect this Teleadan.

        "I am in charge of new friends who wish to help. It seems you have come to the right place, and at the right time. You must have the grace of Elbereth herself," he said, smiling slightly. 

        "Oh, no," Neithawen said, "I would not assume to have Elbereth's grace, 'tis too great a gift for someone as lowly as I." She watched as Legolas looked her up and down, and she hoped that he found her to look as different as she did.

          "Ah, well, no matter. I am called Legolas, and I am prince of this realm. My father, Thranduil, is our king. And should you choose to fight in this war, there can be no turning back. Do you understand and agree to this?" Legolas recited the sentence with unwavering diligence, but Neithawen sensed a hint of boredom in his voice, as though he had said this many times before. 

        "Yes, my lord, Prince Legolas. I wish to fight."

        "Very well, you shall be in my company. We leave tomorrow at first light. Have you a place to camp in the woods surrounding?"

        "Ah, no." Neithawen racked her brain for something that made sense and would not make Legolas suspect. "I had two companions, but when we arrived, they decided they'd rather go back home," Neithawen said, thinking hard. "And, they, uh, took my horse back with them. They told me that they were needed at home."

        Legolas thought for a moment, looking Neithawen over from head to foot, presumably to see if Teleadan was well equipped. Neithawen began to get nervous with him watching her, and she hoped he wouldn't suspect anything.

        "All right, we shall find you a room. And we can give you a horse to ride for tomorrow, if you like."

        "Yes, my lord, that would be good. I thank you." She tried her hardest not to smile at the slightly confused expression on his immensely beautiful face. The moonlight shone down upon him, his brows shading his eyes, making them dark pools of thought. A strong desire to kiss him again swept over her in a wave.

        "Very well, follow me." Legolas led Neithawen up the path to the wing of spare bedrooms. He showed Neithawen into one, saying, "here you are, Teleadan. We leave around first light tomorrow. It seems that you don't have much time to sleep, so I shall leave you to it. Find me in the morning, and stay near me. Goodnight, my friend." Legolas smiled in hospitality. But behind the smile lurked suspicion. 

        As Legolas walked away from the door, he felt an odd sensation. He knew, in his heart, that he'd seen this young man before. But he just couldn't tell where. And he had a feeling that Teleadan was lying. If Legolas had seen him before, it would not have been in Eriador, for Legolas had never been so far to the West. _'We shall see what happens when we're on the road. Mayhap I shall find something then.'   
  
_

        Neithawen watched until Legolas was out of visual range, and as soon as she could hear his footsteps no longer, she stole from the doorway of the room and headed to her own. When she arrived, she hastily packed her things into her knapsack, everything that she would be taking, and was about to leave the room when she suddenly saw the blue scarf that she had found in the laundry lying on a stand near the door. 

        She picked it up, feeling the smooth and soft texture of the fabric. Something pulled at her to bring it with her, though she knew not why. _'Why not?' she asked herself. So she pushed it into the bag with the rest of her belongings, and, throwing it over her shoulder to join the bag that still contained the remains of her hair, walked out the door and down the corridor to her new room._


	9. Chapter 9: An Oath

Hello again all, sorry it's been so long since I've written. I shall try to comply sooner in the future. Oh yeah, something I thought of:  
  
One of my major pet peeves is pronunciation. So I'm going to show you what the pronunciation is for the characters, (according to Tolkien's Elvish pronunciation guides) in case any of you had an interest to know *smiles*:  
  
**Neithawen** = n**EYEth-a-when **

**Legolas** (You probably already know, but I've heard it pronounced wrong before) = **LEG-o-lahs. **

**Teleadan** = **TEL-e-ahdahn**

**Rochroval** = **ROCH-rho-vahl (the 'ch' is made in the back of the throat) **

**Maeglin** = **MY-gleen **

**Thranduil** = thr**AHN**-doo-eel  
  
I found out how to make my stuff function, yay, I think, anyway. So here's more *smiles*  
  
I think that just about covers it. If you have any other suggestions of pronunciation, just review and I'll do so *smiles* Thanks again *grins*  
  
  


Neithawen's Deception

**9. An Oath**

        Neithawen's eyes opened to see soft rays of light streaming through her window. She bolted out of bed and shot to the window. Luckily enough, the sun was just starting to peek through the trees. She listened with her keen elf ears for any hint of movement in the surrounding area. She thought she could hear distant sounds of armor clinking against armor, so she hurriedly rushed to the mirror. She started to comb her fingers through her hair, getting out tangles and smoothing stray hairs. Gathering up her armor, she hastily threw it on. 

        The sounds of clinking metal were growing louder. Neithawen slung her quiver over her back and hooked the clasps together. She attached her pack with supplies around her waist, and picked up the bag with her hair in it. _'What in Middle Earth am I going to do with this?' she thought to herself, examining the bag. She finally decided to bring it along. __'I'll bury it in the woods somewhere, maybe.' Opening the drawstring closure on her pack, she stuffed the bag inside and pulled the pack closed again._

        Neithawen picked up her last piece of equipment. Pulling her sword, Ice Lion, from its scabbard, she looked at the blade in wonder. Her father, Maeglin, had given her this blade as her seven hundredth birthday present, and taught her to use it as well. As an elf of Lothlorien, she was taught to use a bow when she was very young. Neithawen realized that being skilled in both was going to be an asset, and would make her seem like less of a female. Not many females were skilled in the art of blade-wielding.

        Neithawen sheathed Ice Lion again and strapped the scabbard to her waist. She approached the door, opened it, and exited. As she made her way down the hall, she passed the elf she had followed to the laundry. She glanced at him, and when he smiled back at her, she saw no recognition on his face. _'That's certainly a good sign,' she thought. __'Maybe I can fool the others too.' _

        Stepping through the archway leading outside, Neithawen looked around. Elves of all ages stood about, preparing. Her sharp eyes scanned the sea of browns and greens to find Legolas. He was easy to distinguish from the others; he wore a light green tunic with light brown on the chest and shoulders, and a silvery-blue shirt underneath. His leggings were a dark, forest green, and his boots were darker still, almost blending with the darkest shrubbery behind him. His pale blonde hair spilled gently over his shoulders. Just over his shoulder Neithawen could see his weaponry. His Mirkwood bow was etched with a gold inscription, and his arrows were fletched with dark red leaves. The sunlight filtered through them and made them shine like rubies. His bone-white knives glistened, the base of their golden blades just barely visible in the sheaths. 

        He turned his back to her, tending to his horse, a beautiful dappled beast, white with grey spots on its body. In fact, it was the same horse she'd seen the first time she had seen Legolas. The pair was immensely beautiful together. 

        Neithawen slowly made her way toward Legolas. She came up behind him and took a deep breath. She was about to address him when he turned suddenly.

        "Ah, Teleadan, it is pleasant to see you again. We are just getting ready to leave. Your horse is there." He pointed to another horse about 10 yards away. This one tossed its head, seemingly trying to free itself from the rope binding it to the tree. Neithawen walked over to the mare with her hand outstretched, speaking in soft tones. The horse turned her eye toward Neithawen, and calmed slightly. Neithawen placed her flat hand under the horse's nose, allowing her to get a good smell. 

        The horse calmed almost immediately. Her eyes stopped lolling in her head, and she pushed her nose into Neithawen's flat palm. Neithawen smiled and ran her other hand slowly along the beast's neck. She had a way with horses, it had always been so.

        Neithawen turned back to Legolas and called above the clamor of elves readying for battle, "Does this beautiful mare have a name?" 

        "She does, to be certain." Legolas' tone was somewhat of awe. No male had ever had much luck with this mare; she much preferred the company of the fairer sex. Perhaps it was because Teleadan was young. "She is called Rochroval, meaning—."

        "Meaning Horse-Wing," Neithawen interjected, cutting Legolas off in mid sentence.

        "Or Winged Horse," Legolas replied. "I've never heard the phrase 'Horse-Wing' before, but I quite like it," he said. A small smile crept over his lips. Neithawen's breath caught in the back of her throat. 

        Hoping that Legolas had not noticed anything, Neithawen turned back to Rochroval. The mare was looking at her with expectancy that said to Neithawen, 'are you going to ride me or not?' Neithawen smiled slightly at her own silly assumption, and started stowing some of her gear in Rochroval's saddlebags. 

        Suddenly, a call was heard from a distance, but easily audible to the elves' ears. "We depart! _An i__ auth!_" The voice was that of Thranduil's. It traveled from far away, carried lightly on the gentle breeze.

        Neithawen led Rochroval over to where Legolas and his horse were standing. It would be a while before the first company moved out so that the second could follow. Legolas seemed deeply distracted by something. "What is it, my lord?" She followed his gaze to an empty window. In fact, it was the window that she had occupied when she first arrived. 

        "Ah, nothing that you would care about, Teleadan," Legolas sighed. 

        "You mustn't make assumptions, my lord. Who is to say that I will not care?" Neithawen looked over at Legolas. His eyes were still fixed on her old window.

        "A beautiful lady, Teleadan. She did not come to bid be farewell. Alas, I did not think she would. She was, no doubt, occupied in saying goodbye to her father, who is also leaving."

        "And may I ask who this beautiful lady might be?" Neithawen knew full well what the answer would be.

        "Her name is Neithawen, and I long for her touch again, though I may never feel it."

        _'Not if I have anything to say about it,' Neithawen thought. Out loud, however, she said, "ah, yes, the lady Neithawen. Mine eyes had the fortune of her beautiful face, her slender figure, only this morning. Her beauty was marred only by the tears streaming down her face as she wept for the loss of her father. I now assume she was also weeping for you." Neithawen smiled inwardly at the thought of praising herself. It seemed foolish to her, but to Teleadan, Neithawen could very well be the most beautiful maiden in the land._

        Unfortunately, Legolas' reaction was not what Neithawen had hoped. "You saw her? She was weeping? Where was she?" Legolas' litany of questions startled her. She fought hard to come up with an answer.

        "Ah, well, she was, near the dining hall, I believe."

        "And how long ago was this?"

        "Only just this morning, my lord."

        "I must go to her. Hold these." Legolas shoved the reigns of his horse's bridle into Neithawen's hands. 

        Neithawen was horrified. "Bu-but, my lord, you mustn't. We are soon leaving. Look! Even know the end of the first company departs! You must stay!"

        Legolas stopped walking and turned to look at the elves departing before him. "Alas, you are right, o young Teleadan." He bowed his head in sorrow and took the reigns from Neithawen again. When he looked up into Neithawen's eyes, tears were pooling in his own. His sorrow ran into her like the cool water of a mountain spring. She felt tears prickling behind her eyes, but fought to hold them back. She put on the bravest face she could muster. 

        "My lord, you shall return to her safely. I shall personally guarantee it. You have my vow of protection."


	10. Chapter 10: Unease and Laughter

All right, I think it is time for me to address some things. 

1) For those of you that noticed Neithawen pilfered the scarf, I'm sorry, I know it was bad and she shouldn't have done it, but it has a point later, I swear!

2) I know that Legolas is 2931 years old, but this story is set in the past, since when he was 2931, he was in the Fellowship, etc.

3) Albinofrog88: I am sorry to disappoint you but I haven't read the "Alana" books. This just came out of my head. Although now I will look into reading them. *smiles*

4) Thanks to everyone who reviews my fiction! It really helps me to write it. 

Yeuua Summoner

Neithawen's Deception

**10. Unease and Laughter**

        Legolas looked over at Neithawen. "You what?" he asked, shocked.

        "I swear to protect you, my lord. And I will." Neithawen smiled and offered the reigns to Legolas again.

        "Bu-but--…" Legolas started, then seemed to think better of it, and said, "I am honored, Teleadan, but the protection oath is usually something you reserve for very close friends. Surely you have someone better to bestow your kindness upon?"

        "Nay, my lord. Surely there is no one more worthy than the Prince of Mirkwood. Besides, all my friends and kin deserted me, if you remember." Neithawen said, a smile growing inside her that she had to keep from shining over her face. She could feel his surprise and discomfiture. She had spoken of the protection oath to her father before, but she wasn't aware that it was such a major event. Maeglin had told her that you should swear the oath to someone that you cared for and wished would make it home safely, and someone that you would be willing to lose your immortality for. Had she been traveling to Rhûn openly, Neithawen would have pledged her protection to her father. Since such a thing was not possible, Legolas would have to suffice. She smiled again, this time letting it blossom over her face like a new rose in the springtime. "Come, my lord. It is time." And indeed, the trailing remains of the first company had started to move out.

        Legolas took his horse's reigns from Neithawen and leapt lithely upon its back. He yelled back to the other elves, _"An i auth!"_ The assortment of young and old soldiers clamored up onto their horses, and soon the company was ready. 

        Legolas looked over at Neithawen, eyes narrowed in thought. "I am ready, my lord," she said to him, smiling once more. He returned the smile and clicked softly to his horse, and they began to leave Mirkwood.

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        Thranduil looked over his shoulder at the regiment behind him. He smiled. "I have a great feeling about this Maeglin." The two were riding at the head of the column, leading the elves to Rhun. Thranduil's smile faded, however, when he thought of Legolas far, far behind them. "I fear for my son, though. He is young and brave, yes, but I put him with mostly old, young, and inexperienced elves. Should they have the need to fight, I fear that they will not hold out."

        Maeglin looked sharply over at Thranduil. "What do you mean, 'should they have the need'? Is that not what they have come for?" Maeglin asked. 

        Thranduil laughed at the puzzled look on Maeglin's face. _"Mellon nin, I haven't quite told you the degree of severity that the war has come to. It is quite true that orcs are attacking the men of Rhun, but the men are weak, and a fresh surge of orcs would seem like much to them. However, I feel that the moment we arrive, the battle will be over. The orcs will turn tail and run, and even if they don't right away, they should before the second company gets there, at very least."_

        All confusion faded from Maeglin's face, to be replaced with mirth. "But why, dear friend, have you rallied all these troops?"

        "Well, friend, there hasn't been any excitement around Mirkwood for so long, I thought it'd be nice for the elves to get out of forest and see some new sights." 

        Maeglin smiled. "Always the warmonger, you were, Thranduil." His gaze turned back to the open path ahead of them.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

        Legolas' head turned from side to side. He could sense something. He didn't know what, but something in the air was amiss. Two days ride and nothing had befallen them, and while this was good, it also held some air of suspicion. He glanced over at Teleadan, whom he was leading the column of riders with. His face was young and regal, but almost feminine. Legolas remembered when he was at that stage. It was a turning point in most elves' lives. They either decided if they were warriors or if they were to stay home when war presented itself. The latter decision bore no shame, as he had heard it did in many societies of men. It was just a decision to be made. Legolas had decided to follow in his father's footsteps. While it was odd for the king to go off to war, Thranduil had made that decision, and none had questioned it. Legolas had done the same.

        Neithawen, feeling Legolas' eyes upon her, turned her head slightly toward him. He swiftly looked away. Pretending that he had not been looking at her, Legolas said, "Never have I been this far East into Mirkwood. It is dark, and strange. I feel something."

        "As do I," Neithawen replied. It was true in two ways. She did feel a strange sense of foreboding, very slight, but ever present. She also felt an odd sensation of companionship with Legolas, different from that which she had felt the night before their departure. She felt a bond that only friends without romantic ties could feel. She liked it, true, but she thought she liked the other bond just slightly more. She grinned, not meaning for it to show, but it did. Legolas noticed.

        "Why do you smile so, friend? Is what you feel different than what I feel?" _'In a way, yes,'_ Neithawen thought to herself. To Legolas she said, "nay, I feel the presence of ill. Far away, yet present. I do not like it. But I was thinking of something else, that is the reason for my smile."

        "Something from your past, your former home, I daresay," Legolas suggested. "A female, perhaps?" He began to lament, "_Uin__ I hiril hebin meleth nin a bain na ind nin." The sound of his voice was pleasant to her ears. _

        Neithawen snorted. "No lady has ever graced me with her presence," she said, being perfectly truthful.

        "You must be telling me a falsehood. A young, strapping elf like yourself? Surely you've been with your fair share of ladies."

        "Nay, my Prince. Nor shall I ever need to." Neithawen adopted the manner that she'd seen the younger elves do back in Lothlórien. She sat up straight and tall in the saddle, pushing her nose into the air in an aristocratic manner.

        Legolas nearly fell off his horse with mirth. He clutched at his stomach as he doubled over with laughter. Neithawen tried her best to look miffed, but all she succeeded in doing was making him laugh harder.

        When he had calmed enough to speak, he said, "one day you will feel much differently, _mellon__ nin. I am quite sure of it."_

        Neithawen smiled. "Whatever you say, my lord."


	11. Chapter 11: Melindin

Hi again. Ok, I don't like to do this, but here goes…

Isoude: I know you mean well, and I appreciate the fact that you like my story, and are kind enough to give your opinion, but if you have read romance novels that are published, then you may come to find that most are pretty slow toward the beginning. Also, when I started the fiction, I read the rating guidelines for fanfiction.net, and it asks that you rate the highest necessary. And as I am planning for slight violence (not necessarily graphic, but I don't usually know what comes out of my head) and a relatively descriptive sex scene, I felt that an R rating would possibly be needed. I would definitely hate for a person that does not like to read about such things to come across my fanfiction and then be appalled when they came to the sexual and violent scenes. That would be unfair to the reader. 

        I understand that my story isn't totally original. For one, I based it off of Tolkien, requiring that it be under the category of _fan fiction_, and for two, if you were to count all the people on this great green earth, I'm sure you would find that you would grow very tired before you reached the number. If you were to multiply each one of those people by the millions of thoughts they have each day, let alone their whole lifetime, I'm sure you would find that no idea could be original. 

        I noticed that you used Disney's Mulan as a reference to unoriginality. I would like to point out that Mulan is no more original than my story. Why, even Tolkien himself has Éowyn masquerade as a man to fight. It has happened in real life, people have written about it, and I'm sorry to say, people will continue to write about it. It is a fact of life that every story has a bit of someone else's thought put into it (Tolkien's use of Beowulf, for example). 

        Again, I thank you for taking the time to review. ~ Yeuua Summoner

And I appreciate all the others who have reviewed also! Thanks.

Neithawen's Deception

**11. Melindin**

        Neithawen turned in her saddle. Under her, Rochroval moved uneasily. She scanned the surrounding forest from side to side, peering intently from her sharp eyes. She turned to look for Legolas, who had fallen back toward the back of the company to make sure naught was amiss, leaving Neithawen to lead. She saw his elegant grace and fluid movements atop Araroh, his horse. Sighing, she turned forward again. 

        After a few moments Araroh came cantering up toward the head of the column and regained his place beside Rochroval. She snorted in greeting and tossed her head. "All is well, I presume?" asked Neithawen, turning to Legolas.

        "Yes," he said shortly, the word clipped. 

        Neithawen frowned. "Is something wrong, friend Legolas?" 

        "Yes," he said again, furrowed brows making deep lines in his perfect forehead. "My sense of foreboding has increased, and I do not like it." Neithawen frowned. She had felt it too, but she also felt a ray of hope. It pierced her heart like a ray of sunshine through a cloud, and made her wonder. 

        Neithawen turned back to the path ahead of them. In a small clearing, Neithawen's eyes caught something strange. A small hut made of bricks stood alone amongst the shrubbery. Legolas put up a hand suddenly to stop the troupe from continuing. He lithely dismounted from his horse and motioned for Neithawen to follow. They slipped into the brush, and Legolas said, "These people cannot be too bad; my father would have sent a messenger to warn us of them. We shall see for ourselves in any case." He slipped from the bush and approached the hut. Neithawen trailed behind a few steps.

        Legolas tapped a slender knuckle on the door. A few moments passed, and Legolas raised his hand as if to rap again, when the door opened slowly. Legolas let his hand fall to his side.

        A wizened woman peered through the crack in the door. "More elves?" She made a small snorting sound. "Will the fun never end?" A small smile grew across her withered lips. "Well, who're you?" she asked, staring at Legolas.

        He put his hand to his chest. "I am Legolas Thranduilion, of Mirkwood. My father, the king, and his elves are the ones who passed here before." He started to motion toward Neithawen. "And this is my friend—…"

        "I think the girl can answer for herself, lad," the woman interrupted. She glanced over at Neithawen kindly. Neithawen's eyes grew, and she breathed in sharply. The woman, very keen, realized right away what was going on. Legolas frowned.

        "My good lady, can you not see, Teleadan is male!" Legolas' face was shocked. 

        The old woman retaliated swiftly. "I'm so sorry, laddie!" she said, moving to Neithawen. "My eyes aren't as good as they once were…old age, you know." She grasped Neithawen's hands and gave her a small wink that only she could see. "Come inside, and you can tell me all about yourselves." She pulled Neithawen inside and held the door back for Legolas. He stood, motionless, in the threshold of the house. "C'mon, son, you're letting all the heat out!" 

This seemed to start Legolas into action, and he stuttered, "Ah, I must go and, uh, tell the troupe what is happening. I shall be back soon," and he turned on his heel and left.

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        The old woman hurried Neithawen inside and shut the door. "I am Melindin. Tell me, _Teleadan," she stressed the name bemusedly, "what your real name is, and why you disguise yourself as a man."_

        Neithawen laughed. "I am called Neithawen, and your eyes certainly aren't failing. Tell me, Lady Melindin, is it really that noticeable?" 

        Melindin looked her over. "To a man, no. But to me, yes. I've raised my fair share of daughters, and to me, you look nothing like a man." 

        Neithawen raised her eyebrows. "Well, thank you, I think." Her brows then knitted together. "You do not think that L—any of the others would be able to tell, do you?"

        "Are there any women with you?" Melindin asked swiftly.

        "None."

        "Then you're all right, lass. Now, sit down, have a cup of tea, and stop worrying your pretty head. If that beauty of an elf comes back with you still havin' that expression, even he'll know!" Melindin said, hanging a large black kettle on a hook in the fire.

        Just then, there was another knock at the door, and when Melindin called, Legolas slid the door open and entered. His eyes roamed over the small cottage, taking in the homey atmosphere of pots hanging on the wall, thick curtains on the windows, and a fresh vase of flowers on the table. 

        Neithawen watched as Legolas' eyes fixed on the flowers. She smiled as his countenance turned from confusion to delight. She watched him walk to the table and pluck a single flower from the vase. His slender fingers wrapped around the stem, enclosing it in his grasp. As he brought it to his nose, Neithawen sighed.

        "The odor is pungent, yet sweet. I do not believe I have smelled this flower before."

        "It is called Simbelmyne, and it comes from the land of Rohan. That flower there in your hand, as a matter of fact."

        Legolas looked at her, amazed. "And how is it that they are fresh?" He looked back at the flower, marveling at it.

        "Ah now, lad, trying to steal my secrets, are ye? Well, you won't get much out of me, I'm sorry to say." She gave Legolas a wink that would rival the loveliest of maidens', then laughed heartily. "Would you like to say for tea…ah, Legolas, was it?"

        Legolas looked up from the flower. "Yes, it is Legolas, and…" his voice trailed off and he glanced over at Neithawen. "I do not believe that we have time for tea. We are quite behind my father, and we need to catch up to him. I am sorry to disappoint you."

        "Ah, just as well. I am not used to much company around these parts anyway. I don't remember how to act proper anymore!" Melindin smiled. "Just remember, you are welcome here anytime." A dark shadow passed briefly across her face, but vanished within a second. "Please visit me again, Legolas, and Teleadan," she said, putting undue stress on Teleadan, in Neithawen's opinion. She showed them out of her pleasant cottage and, when Neithawen turned back around, Melindin smiled at her. Neithawen returned the smile and turned back to Legolas. She heard the solid door click shut behind her.


	12. Chapter 12: Yrch!

Neithawen's Deception

** 12. Yrch!**

The trees on either side of the troupe were thick, making the wide path shady and dark. Even to the eyes of the elves, it was hard to see through the thicket. One thin shred of light pierced its way through the canopy to touch the ground before them, illuminating the leaves, dirt, and other debris littering the pathway.

It had been two hours of travel since the company had left Melindin's house. Their stay with the woman had been too brief for Neithawen's liking. Melindin was a good woman, if a bit strange. Then again, Neithawen had only had contact with human men one other time. She supposed that Melindin's manner was like that of any human. 

Neithawen felt heavy hearted, and she could tell that Rochroval felt it too. She was going forward at a very slow pace, as if reluctant to go on. She looked to Legolas at her left, and saw his eyes narrowed, and his hands were moving restlessly on his reins, as if itching to reach back to his bow. Neithawen knew Legolas could feel what she felt; a strange sensation filled her body and mind. 

        Suddenly, a second ray of light pierced the treetops, and Neithawen's eyes shot forward as the sun reflected off of a metal surface. She narrowed her eyes into the darkness, but there was no more need to see. Her ears were filled with the horrendous sound of an orc horn and battle cries.

        Her hand went immediately to the pommel of her sword, and she slipped it quickly from its scabbard. She felt, rather than saw, Legolas' hands shoot over his head to his twin white knives. "Yrch! Yrch! Draw your weapons!"

        There was no time for them to use arrows. The orcs were on them so quickly that only the rear half of the company could shoot. Neithawen kneed Rochroval forward, and her blade sliced neatly through an orc's neck. 

        The orcs came around them thickly; there were at least five hundred of them, and the elves only numbered two hundred. Yet the battle lay with skill and resilience. The elves were the better fighters, and the orcs' numbers were dwindling quickly. 

        Legolas dismounted from Araroh, taking orcs with him as he sliced a channel around himself. Neithawen followed suit, dismounting from Rochroval. Her horse immediately dashed away frantically, following Araroh into the woods to the right of the path.

        Orcs closed in upon Neithawen, surrounding her on all sides. Their marred faces laughed at her, their chants and jeers clouded her ears to the pointed tips. The nearest orc began to advance; the others hung back, seeming to think that this was more of a game than a fight. Neithawen crouched slightly, preparing to attack. Her opponent scowled and lunged forward. Swift as a shadow departing from light, Neithawen ran her elven blade through the orc. He fell, and she kicked him off with her foot. 

        The others, now angry at the swift killing of their comrade, attacked her full force. She was overwhelmed. There was no where for her to go, and she could not defend from all sides at once. Neithawen jolted as she felt a sharp, searing pain through her right thigh, and then, almost immediately after, her side was split open by another crude orc blade. 

        Time seemed to cease. She stared at the orc that had opened her side, eyes wide in disbelief. As she began to fall to the forest floor, she saw Legolas and two other elves break through the circle, pushing the orcs back and killing them. "Teleadan! No!" Legolas shouted. He ran to her, his face contorted with fear and rage. His face was what she remembered as the darkness took her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

        Legolas watched as Neithawen's eyes rolled back into her head. Her breathing was hoarse and labored. Blood spilled over Legolas' hands as he tried to compress the wound on Neithawen's stomach. His eyes darted to the pack at her hip. He had asked Neithawen what was in there once before. There were medicinal supplies and bandages. Still putting pressure on the wound with one hand, his fingers fumbled with the string closure. He yanked it open and pulled out a long white strip of cloth. He wrapped it firmly around Neithawen's stomach several times and tied the ends together. 

        Quickly he rummaged through it again to find more long strips to bind Neithawen's side. He pulled one out and unwound it. Rolled inside was a shimmering cloth of midnight blue. Legolas took it in his hands. Running his fingers along the fabric, he tried to remember where he had seen it before. Neithawen moaned at his side. Legolas hurriedly pushed the fabric into the neck of his tunic and covered her wound.

        Legolas examined Neithawen further and found a less substantial wound on her thigh. He dressed this one quickly and pulled her into a sitting position, supporting her from behind. Neithawen's eyes opened slightly, but were unfocused. "Legolas," she said breathily, "Melindin…" Her voice trailed off, and she slipped back into unconsciousness.

        A shrill whistle pierced the air. Araroh and Rochroval galloped back to Legolas with lightning speed. He addressed the other elves around him. "We must get Teleadan back to the cottage. He will ride with me; someone get his horse." 

        Legolas mounted Araroh, and with the help of another elf, pulled Neithawen gently up in front of him. She sagged to the side, and Legolas put his arms around her to grip the reins. Legolas' knees depressed slightly, and Araroh shot off back to Melindin's house.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

        To the west of the battle, another whistle was heard. Melindin stood up slowly from her garden chair, putting her hand to her back as she grimaced. She hobbled into the house and, picking up a towel, pulled the kettle from the hook above the fire. "These whistling kettles are brilliant," she said to herself. "That peddler doesn't know what he's missing, the old fool." 

        As she set the kettle down on the roughly hewn wooden table, a strange wave of feeling swept over her. She listened intently and could hear the sound of hooves coming up the path to her house. Moving fast for a woman of her age, she ran to the door and flung it open. The two elves that had been there just hours earlier rode with great speed up the path and stopped in front of her house. Melindin could see that the girl was injured. She rushed to the horse, and the male elf spoke. "You must help. You can heal him, I know it." 

        "Give him to me." Legolas eased Neithawen down to Melindin and dismounted, taking her in his arms. He followed Melindin into the house. "Put him here," Melindin ordered, pointing to the small wooden bed. Legolas complied and laid Neithawen down. "Go tend to your horse; you cannot help here." Her tone was kind and gentle. "I will save him."

        Legolas knelt by Neithawen and took her hand in his. "Do not fear, friend Teleadan. You will live." He kissed her hand and left the cottage. 

        As soon as he was out the door, Melindin set to work, undressing and cleaning Neithawen's wounds. She used herbs known only to a few, herbs that would heal a wound of even this degree without even leaving a scar. 

        When all the wounds were clean she deftly redressed them in a soft white cloth. Melindin laid a blanket over Neithawen and kissed her forehead. "Rest well, sweet elf, rest well."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

        Legolas walked from Melindin's cottage, a thin sheen of sweat shining on his face. His breathing declined slowly as he ran his hands along Araroh's flanks. There was no doubt in his mind that Teleadan would live; somehow he knew that Melindin was not a normal medicine woman. She would not let Teleadan die.

        Legolas' thoughts strayed back to the blue cloth he had found in Teleadan's pouch. It was immensely familiar to him, but he couldn't place where. He pulled it from his tunic and felt it with his fingertips. His eyes closed, and he leaned back upon Araroh. Trying to recall an image, he placed it to his nose. The smell was sweet and overwhelming. He had only once smelled something as sweet, but his mind was elsewhere, and he just couldn't remember where or when. Glancing back up at Melindin's cottage, Legolas quickly put the cloth back into his tunic and moved toward the door to check on his friend.****


	13. Chapter 13: Discoveries

A/N: I'm sooooo sorry it took so long to update, but now it's spring break *rejoices* so I shall be able to write more! YAY! Oh yes, and notice that chapter 12 is no longer an author's note, but it's now a chapter. So if you read this one first, life might be kinda confusing. So please check back soon, I should write again quickly! 

Yeuua Summoner.

Neithawen's Deception

**13. Discoveries**

        Neithawen looked up as the door to Melindin's house opened quickly. She saw Legolas come in, a look of concern on his face. When he saw that she was awake, his face lit up in a beautiful smile. "You are awake, my friend," he said, making his way toward the bed with fluid grace. "How are you feeling?"

        "Much better, thanks to Melindin's caring healing," Neithawen said, struggling to sit up. Her side ached with a deep, lasting pain. She moaned, and a concerned light filled Legolas' eyes. His hand immediately found her back and helped her into a sitting position. Melindin came over from the fireplace carrying a kettle of hot water and three cups. 

        She placed them on the table by Neithawen's bed, and said, "Tea, anyone? I've been cravin' some, meself." She glanced up and Neithawen and smiled.

        "I should love some tea, Melindin. I thank you." Neithawen's eyes moved to Legolas' face. His eyes, while bright, were etched with lines of concern. He watched Melindin pour the tea, and when she offered him a glass, he took it and smiled, not saying a word.

        Handing a cup to Neithawen, Melindin said, "Why so silent, dear? Cat got your tongue?" 

        Legolas looked at her in confusion, but overlooked the odd question and said, "I am just thinking. And very glad that Teleadan is alive." He glanced at Neithawen, the happiness apparent in his eyes. He set down his teacup and grasped her hand in his own. "My dear friend, I am happy. Have no worries." But Neithawen saw the concern behind his smile. Somehow, she didn't think it had to do with her health. Not directly, anyway.

        Neithawen smiled at Legolas then turned to Melindin. "How long will it be until I am able to travel again? We must get back underway."

        Melindin's brow wrinkled as she thought. "Well, with the herbs I used, hmm, you should be back on your feet within the day, young Teleadan." She winked at Neithawen so that only she could see. "But whether you'll be well enough to travel is another thing altogether. Maybe by tomorrow morning, at the earliest. And that depends on how much rest you get today." Melindin smiled. She stood slowly and picked up the teakettle. "But knowing you, my dear, you'll be wantin' to leave tonight. That I cannot allow." She smiled and moved back over to the fireplace.

        Legolas turned to Neithawen and said, "I must go and tell the others how you are, and that we shall camp here until tomorrow morning. You will be all right with out me, yes?"

        Neithawen nodded. "I will be fine with some bed rest, I am sure. Melindin will care for me."

        "All right. I shall depart at once. I will see that the men find a safe place to camp, then I will be back here."

        "Yes, Legolas. I will see you soon." Legolas smiled and suddenly cupped his hand softly around his friend's face. Neithawen closed her eyes and turned her face toward his hand, smiling softly.

        Legolas paused for a moment, leaving his hand on Neithawen's face. He had seen that exact look before. Her face cupped in his hand…that night out in the gardens. The memory shone like the bright moon on a clear night. '_Neithawen.' He looked at the elf who had stolen his heart. '_How could I have not seen?'_ Deciding to keep the secret to himself for the moment, Legolas let his hand drop to his side and stood up. "Rest well, my friend."_

He turned to Melindin. "Thank you for all that you have done for us. I am in your debt forever, my good lady." He moved to her and kissed her on the cheek. Her face broke into a smile. 

        "Ah, 'twas my pleasure, dear. Now you go and tell those other boys what's happenin' before they're sick with worry." 

        Legolas smiled and turned to the door. He paused for a moment, and as Neithawen watched, she was strongly reminded of the day in the castle. But, like that day, he said nothing, but opened the door and was gone.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Legolas rode Araroh through the woods to the East. Araroh was still tired from the ride to Melindin's house, so Legolas did not push him. Instead, he let the horse go at its own pace, leaving Legolas to think. '_How could I have been so blind?' he thought to himself. _'Her feminine features alone should have given it away.' _But as he recalled her face in his mind, he could see how he'd been deceived. She had disguised herself very well. But he still chided himself for not seeing sooner. __'It all makes sense,' he thought. He played all his memories of the journey with Teleadan back in his head. At the very beginning, when he had wanted to see Neithawen one more time before he left, "Teleadan" had discouraged him from going. And then later when they had first met Melindin, she had seen Neithawen and known immediately that she was no male. _'But why?'___ That was what Legolas didn't understand. Why had Neithawen, beautiful daughter of a warrior and friend of the King, dressed as a male elf and come along for such a dangerous journey? Legolas pondered this for a moment, but could not come up with an answer that made any sense._

        Pulling the blue cloth from his tunic, Legolas smelled it. It smelled unmistakably of Neithawen. He felt a fool for not knowing before. '_No matter,' he thought, a mischievous smile growing on his beautiful face. _'If she can trick me, then I can trick her.'_ The smile broadened into a grin as he thought of a plan._

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harloss' keen elf ears picked up the sound of hoof beats to the West. As Legolas' appointed leader, Harloss was to make sure that anyone coming was not an enemy. He kneed his horse forward and concealed himself in the bushes by the road. When he saw that it was Legolas who approached, Harloss came out of the brush and greeted him.

        "Harloss, is all well?" Legolas asked.

        "Yes, everything is fine here. And what of Teleadan? Is he well?" Harloss queried with concern in his voice.

        "He will be fine, but he must rest at Melindin's cottage for tonight. She will not allow him to travel before then. I will not go on without him, but I give you the choice to take the men further, or to camp the night and depart in the morning."

        "M-me, my Prince? I could not make such a--a vital decision in your place." Harloss' eyes filled with apprehension. 

        "Harloss, friend, I would not have left you in charge if I had doubted your ability to choose. You must do this for me." Legolas placed a hand on Harloss' shoulder. "I have faith in you."

        Harloss considered both possibilities. To wait would mean to lose more ground, something that they had already lost too much of during the battle with the orcs. They could not really afford to lose any more. "You will be with Teleadan, and you will catch up quickly?"

        "By the midday after next, at the latest," Legolas assured.

        "Then we will go on. Please have a safe journey."

        "I thank you, and may you have a safe one as well. You make a fine leader, Harloss." Harloss smiled as Legolas moved away. "Please tell the elves what the plan is and not to worry for Teleadan. All is well for him."

        "Yes, my Prince. See you soon." Harloss watched Legolas' back as he rode smoothly away, until the Prince was out of sight. Then he turned back to the crowd of elves who were anxiously awaiting any news. He raised his voice for all to hear. "Teleadan lives!" 

The voices of the company echoed the words. It became a chant as Harloss moved to the front lines and motioned the soldiers on.  


	14. Chapter 14: Grapefruit

Hello to everyone again, and I hope you're enjoying my rapid succession of updates, I sure am. And thank you to all that have reviewed. Remember, chapter 12 is no longer an author's note, in case you are confused. I just want everyone to get the whole story. Well, I hope to read your reviews soon! 

Yeuua

Neithawen's Deception

**14. Grapefruit**

A smile lit up Legolas' face as he rode back toward Melindin's house. He began to formulate a plan in his mind. _'How to get her,' he thought. __'I just don't know.' But he did know that if he did not tell her soon that he would burst with want for her. With need. _'With love,'_ he thought. For he truly did love her, at least as Teleadan. He was sure it would be the same with Neithawen, if not in a slightly different way. The thought of touching Neithawen the way he had that night at the palace made him ache with need for her. _

        Suddenly, it hit him. He knew just how he was going to get her back. He smiled broadly and focused on the road ahead, scheming. 

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        Neithawen sat up suddenly in her bed. It was still daylight, but Melindin was nowhere to be seen. She didn't remember the dream that had roused her, but she remembered it being a bit unpleasant. All she could remember was King Thranduil and her father, fighting. Not with one another, but side by side, against some unseen foe. She remembered naught else, however. 

        Shoving the dream aside in her mind, she suddenly felt a pain in her stomach. It was not from her wound, but from hunger. She took this as a good sign, and thought about seeking out Melindin when the woman came bustling in with a fresh bunch of flowers and a thick, leather-bound book. "Awake, I see," she said. "Hungry?"

        "Oh yes, Melindin, quite." 

        "Then I shall see that you get some food. If you insist on going with Legolas tomorrow morning, then you'd better have your strength back." Melindin smiled and pulled a grapefruit from a cupboard and set to work on it with a knife. "I find that grapefruit is just the thing to get your strength back when you've been healed by the herbs I used on you. Quite uncanny, how well it works. I just hope that you'll be able to keep it down, since yours was a stomach wound. But you're a strong girl. I know you'll be all right." The old woman turned to Neithawen with a smile. She pulled a plate from another cupboard and put the grapefruit quarters on it. As she walked over to Neithawen, picking up a jar of sugar along the way, there was a knock at the door. "That must be Legolas." She set the plate and jar down on the bedside table and moved toward the door. 

        Legolas stood there, holding a bunch of wildflowers. He smiled at Melindin, who stepped aside, admitting him. He strode over to the bed, a model of beauty and grace. Neithawen was rather stunned by him. Melindin came over with a vase filled with water, and Legolas put the flowers inside. A smile touched his lips as he arranged the flowers with care.

        When he was finished, he sat down on the edge of Neithawen's bed and grasped her hand in his. "How are you feeling, dear friend? Better, I presume?"

        "Yes," she said breathily, both from exhaustion and from his skin on hers. 

        "And even better once she eats that grapefruit there," Melindin interjected. "Now, I've got some gardening to do, so Legolas, now that you're here, will you help Teleadan to eat? If he needs it, that is. He's a strappin' lad, I'm sure he'll do fine on his own." She winked at Neithawen. Legolas smiled.

        "I shall be happy to help."

        "Good. Then I'll be in the garden if you need me." She smiled at them both and walked out the back door.

        Legolas watched until the door shut behind her, then turned to the table where the grapefruit lay. "You must eat this, my friend."

        "Yes, Legolas." Neithawen watched as he picked up a quarter and sprinkled a bit of sugar on it. His lithe fingers moved deftly over the melon, spreading sugar in an even pattern. "What of the other elves?"

"They have decided to go on." He continued speaking, addressing the expression of confusion that fell upon her beautiful face. "We can move much faster than they, and we shall reach them two days from now. Do not worry." His face shone as he smiled at her as he held out the fruit. His beauty was astounding. Neithawen licked her lips.

        "Hungry, are we?" he chuckled. _'Not for grapefruit,' _Neithawen thought. She raised her hands to take the fruit from Legolas. She watched him watching her as she brought the fruit to her mouth. Her eyes didn't leave his for a second. The fruit was juicy, and when she took a bite, the sweet liquid ran down her chin. Legolas' hand was immediately at her mouth. He watched her as his fingers smoothed away the sour nectar. His hand lingered by her lips, the pad of his thumb gently caressing the very bottom of her lower lip. A shiver ran down her spine, settling forward into the lower region of her stomach. Her mouth opened slightly, moving into his caress, but he pulled his hand away. "There," he said. "Now you keep eating." His voice was husky and full of desire. It never occurred to her that he should not be doing that. All thought of Teleadan had vanished momentarily. She longed to kiss him, but his expression changed suddenly from that of desire to friendliness. He picked up another slice of grapefruit and began to put sugar on its surface. She blinked a few times and her hand moved back to her face. She took another bite of the grapefruit, savoring the juice in her mouth.

        When she had finished eating all the grapefruit, Legolas stood up and moved to the washbasin. He dampened a cloth and handed it to her. She cleaned up as best she could with it and he took it back from her. At that moment, Melindin came in and smiled at them. Her hands were stained with earth and grass, and she brought the smell of earth with her. It was a pleasant and pungent scent. "I see you've finished the grapefruit. How're you feelin'?" 

        "Much better, I thank you, Melindin," Neithawen said.

        "Och, 'twas my pleasure, dear." She turned to Legolas. "And how're you farin'? Be needin' some food, right?"

        "No, my lady, I ate the grapefruit that Teleadan did not."

        "Of course. Well, now that everyone's fed and watered, where're we going to sleep? Teleadan stays in the bed--,"

        "I should not wish to be such a burden when you have done so much," Neithawen said.

        "Pshht, nonsense. I'm more worried about Legolas sleepin' on a pallet on the floor than me. I was plannin' to sleep under the stars tonight. I do that often, you know."

        "You are sure?"

        "Dead sure. I'm sorry, Legolas, but you'll have to sleep on the floor. Here, you can use these." She picked up a bundle of blankets from a rocking chair and handed them to him. 

        "I thank you for your hospitality, my good lady. Your kindness will not go unnoticed." Melindin smiled at him and moved to Neithawen. 

        Tucking the bedclothes around Neithawen's shoulders, Melindin kissed her forehead gently. "I'm glad you're better, sweet dear."

        Neithawen smiled, snuggling under the covers. "Thank you," she said simply. Melindin rose and moved to the door. 

        "G'night, you two," she said, and left the cottage.

        Neithawen watched from her warm enclave while Legolas spread the blankets out on the floor beside the bed. He lay down in them, positioning himself for the night. "Legolas?" she said.

        "Yes?"

        Neithawen paused momentarily. Her heart wanted to say 'I love you,' but her mind made the decision for her. "Thank you," she said finally.

        Legolas' hand reaching up and slipping into her own was the only reply.


	15. Chapter 15: Revelation

Hello again everyone, Yeuua here, and I think this chapter might need a slight warning, it's got a _scene_ in it…you know what I'm talking about *wink*wink* so be forewarned. But I'm guessing you wouldn't be reading an R rated fic if you were concerned about the content…anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

Neithawen's Deception

**15. ****Revelation**

The morning's first rays of light kissed Neithawen's cheeks as Legolas lay watching her. Her rosy complexion shone with radiance and beauty. More than once he contemplated sitting up and kissing her, but that would ruin the plan. He smiled, eagerly awaiting tonight. For tonight was perfect. They would be alone, no other elves to accidentally wander in while he executed his plan. And he wanted to show her his 'revenge' in such a way that she would never forget. He chuckled softly and felt the soft skin of her hand in his own. _'So beautiful._ So wonderfully beautiful.'_ _

Neithawen's eyes fluttered open. She turned toward Legolas and smiled as he asked, "Feeling any better?" 

Smiling and stretching she said, "Yes, much, I thank you. And I thank Melindin too. Where is she, do you know?"

"I know nothing of her whereabouts. But if you wish it, I can go search for her."

"I will come too. I should like some fresh air after being inside this wonderful cottage for almost a day," Neithawen smiled.

"Of course. Here, let me help you." Neithawen struggled to sit up. She felt Legolas' strong arms under her back, gently lifting.

        When she had finally gotten to her feet, the pair made their way slowly to the back door of the cottage. Fresh air greeted Neithawen like an old friend, and she breathed deep and long. The light breeze was filled with the smell of newly awakened flowers and the sweet, musky scent of fir trees. They found Melindin in her garden, on hands and knees, in the earth.

        "Ah, g'mornin', dears. How're you feelin'?" she said, struggling slightly to stand, hands clasping her back.

        "Much better. You are truly a miracle woman." Neithawen moved slowly over to Melindin and pulled her into a warm embrace.

        "Och, think nothing of it. 'Twas truly my pleasure to help someone in need. I suppose you'll be wantin' to leave as soon as possible, eh?" Melindin asked, her eyes moving from Neithawen to Legolas. Neithawen's gaze followed hers.

        "I should like to leave soon, for we must return to the others. But Teleadan must fully recover his strength before we leave. I would not wish for him to fall ill again."

        "No, I shouldn't think so," Melindin said. "We'll get some more food in you, and then we'll see. How does that sound?"

        "It is good. I thank you again for your help and hospitality," Neithawen said. Melindin merely smiled and turned toward the house, muttering softly to herself. Neithawen caught part of what she said on the gentle breeze. "A bit of carrot, that's good after an injury. And maybe some peach…"

        When they had all gone back inside, Neithawen started to feel a bit lightheaded, so she moved to a high-backed chair in the main part of the room. Legolas joined Melindin at the counter. "Is there anything I can help you with, my lady?" he asked.

        "Well, you can cut these peaches up." She handed him a knife and two small pink and orange spheres.

        "I do not believe I am familiar with this type of fruit." Legolas examined it closely. "Another treasure from Rohan?"

        "No, lad, it comes from the southern reaches of Gondor." Legolas cut it in to sections and put one in his mouth. 

        "The nectar is sweet. It will help Teleadan revive his strength well, I should say."

        "You'd be right, then." Melindin handed him a plate and he put the peach slices on it. He waited for Melindin to finish peeling the carrots and walked over with her to where Neithawen had taken some rest. "This peach should boost your energy so you're not havin' any dizzy spells again. You eat up as much as you can, and you eat up too, son. There's plenty," she said, addressing Legolas. He smiled and began to eat some more of the peaches. Neithawen picked up a slice for herself and took a bite. The taste was sweet and wonderful, and she felt the strength flow back into her body. She'd had peaches before, but they were never this good. She had a strong suspicion that Melindin's peaches were not quite the same.

        When all the food had been eaten, and the friendly conversation come to a comfortable halt, Legolas decided it was about time to go. He stood up and glided to the window. The sun was just past the high point in the sky. Sighing, he moved back to the table. "Melindin, we must depart. It is getting late, and we need to catch up to the other elves.

        "Ah, if you must." Melindin smiled. She helped the two elves get their belongings together and they exited the cottage. "You'll be visitin' me again, right? Soon. On your way back from battle wouldn't be soon enough." 

        Neithawen smiled. "Of course we will be back." She pulled Melindin into an embrace for the second time that day. "The grace of the Valar watch over and protect you."

        "And may God look over you too," Melindin said, a smile etching beautiful lines into her old face. Neithawen parted from Melindin and Legolas took her place. He gave her the same blessing, and Melindin returned the blessing in kind.

        The elves fastened their light bundles to Araroh and mounted him. Melindin watched as they rode away slowly into the thick trees. "Goodbye, dears, and may your love grow quickly." She turned back into the house and shut the door with a soft click.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

        Neithawen shifted uncomfortably behind Legolas. She wished inwardly that he had thought to bring Rochroval along. _'But then,'_ she thought, _'you would not be riding behind him like this.' _She liked being close to his warm body. He was secure and strong, something that she was not, even after all of Melindin's care. Her body still felt slightly weak. She was not actually sure if she would have been able to ride Rochroval on her own. She found a more comfortable place on Araroh's back and leaned into Legolas.

        Legolas felt Neithawen's tension release as she leaned against him. He started to doubt his plan. She might be too tired. But he was going to try anyway.

        Legolas looked into the sky. The sun was starting to go behind the horizon. They had been traveling for hours, with only one or two breaks. He would be glad to let Araroh have a rest. He started scanning the trees for a suitable place to spend the night. 

        They rode on for a few more minutes before they came to a slight clearing in the trees by the road. "I think we'll rest here for the night."

        Neithawen had fallen asleep against Legolas' back. His smooth voice awoke her. "Good," she said sleepily, causing him to turn slightly to look at her. He smiled.

        "Do you feel better after your sleep? I hope so, for you have left me no one to talk to but myself," he joked. She laughed softly and sat up a little straighter, surveying the area around. Legolas stopped Araroh with a slight pressure from his knees. Araroh leaned his head down and began to graze on the lush, green grass. 

        Legolas dismounted and helped Neithawen down. He began taking the bundles off of Araroh while Neithawen surveyed the area. She sat down in the shade of a large tree, meaning to only take a short rest. She instead drifted off into a quiet, peaceful slumber.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

        Neithawen's eyes opened. It was mostly dark around her. A small fire crackled merrily in a ring of rocks, and over it, propped up on two forked sticks, was a small animal spitted on a twig. The smell clung to her nostrils and made her stomach ache. "Finally awake, I see," Legolas' voice called from somewhere in the darkness. He emerged into the light carrying more twigs and sticks for the fire. Neithawen tentatively stood, but she felt much better. She felt no dizziness, and her body was strong. "How are you feeling?" Legolas asked, setting the sticks down and moving close to her.

        "Much better. I do not feel ill at all. Melindin is truly wonderful." Neithawen's hand moved to her side where the wound once was. She felt nothing, save a very slight ache that was barely noticeable. Legolas' hand covered hers.

        "Does it hurt?" he asked.

        "No," she replied. She felt his hand move over hers, a feather-light touch that sent tiny explosions up her arm and into the rest of her body. She wanted very much to kiss him; his face was close to hers, his blue eyes dancing in the firelight. _'But to do such would be folly,' she thought. She began to move away from him but he held her where she was. The light from the moon above glinted off his pale hair as he moved toward her. _

        "Do not go, friend Teleadan. You cannot tell me that you do not feel what I feel." Legolas' eyes glinted with mischief, but it went unnoticed. His hand moved from hers, sliding gracefully up her arm. Little fires erupted in her skin where his fingers brushed her. His hand finally came to rest on her shoulder. His fingers flicked up to her ear, a very sensitive spot. She gasped, her sharp intake of breath shattering the silence around them. She regained her senses and realized what was happening. _She_ knew she was female, but Legolas did not. Her eyes widened.

        "Legolas, we mustn't. It's not—not right!" she exclaimed. She pulled away from him sharply, but he held on to her arm. Pulling her back to him, he held her in a tight embrace. "Do not try to fight what you know is right, Teleadan." He stressed the word, and something in Neithawen's mind clicked. The cogs started to turn in her head as he moved his hand to the neckline of his tunic. Pulling the cloth from his shirt, he began to chuckle. He watched as the realization hit her. His chuckle turned into a rolling laugh as he watched her eyes widen in surprise and shock. She snatched the cloth from him. His laughter echoed in her ears and she started to smile. Her smile turned to laughter, and their voices made melodies together, reverberating through the trees. Somewhere nearby, a bird flew from its perch.

        The sudden noise startled them. Their laughter subsided slowly, and they both stood there, clutching their sides. Neithawen looked to Legolas, a light of desire replacing the one of mirth. "Had you fooled for a moment, didn't I?" he asked, his voice soft and beautiful. "You deserve it." He paused for a moment, as the smile faded from his face, to be replaced with confusion. "Why?"

        The question startled Neithawen. She thought the answer would have been rather obvious. Apparently not. "I wanted to fight, and I was not going to be left back in Mirkwood without my father. Or…" she hesitated for a moment, then said, "or you."

        Legolas moved to her and took her into his arms. She tensed for a moment, but his lithe body felt so right against her own. She relaxed, and he gathered her closer. "Neithawen," he said simply. She moved away from him slightly to look into his eyes. The deep blue pools reflected caring and tenderness. His lips, soft and full, were only inches away from her own.

        As if reacting to her thoughts, Legolas closed the gap between them. His lips brushed hers, the gentle caress sending shockwaves of desire through both of them. Neithawen moved closer to him, and their lips touched again, this time firm and full of need. She boldly thrust her tongue inside his mouth, exploring the deep recesses of it, drinking the sweet nectar. His tongue joined hers in a dance so rhythmic, yet so smooth.

        Long moments went by in the blink of an eye. They stood there in each other's embrace, barely moving. Legolas suddenly pulled away, and Neithawen involuntarily cried out. But she was not waiting for long. His mouth moved to her ear, gently caressing and kissing. It was nearly her undoing. His name escaped her lips and was carried away on a gentle breeze.

        Gently he pushed her to the forest floor, where their blankets lay. His hand moved to the neck of her tunic and began to undo the clasps. His hand instinctively cupped around her small breast, feeling her nipple tighten under his touch. She moaned softly as his lips trailed over the sensitive skin of her throat. Her hands moved from his back to the front of his tunic, and she unfastened the buttons. She slid her hands across the bare expanse of his chest, feeling his soft flesh under her fingers and palms. He quickly shrugged out of the tunic and helped her do the same. 

        After a moment or two, their clothes had been discarded and they lay there, gently exploring each other. A few minutes passed, and hunger began to take over Neithawen's senses. She needed Legolas, needed him now. Sliding her caresses lower, she look him into her hands. He gasped and moaned. "Neithawen," he said. He had not said her name since that night in the gardens. The simple word fed her flame of desire, and she lifted her mouth to his to kiss him. He responded and, sensing her need, quickly filled her. She cried out in pleasure. "Neithawen," he said again. Her eyes closed as he repeated her name again and again, and they lost themselves in eachother.

A/N: whew! That was kinda tough to write…I hope you all enjoyed it and weren't offended by anything. And if you like it, let me know, and I'll try to put another scene in later on…if it fits the story of course. ~_^ Yeah, so review, and let me know what you thought *grins*

Yeuua Summoner


	16. Chapter 16: Arrival

A/N: Well, to those of you who have been long awaiting an update and are still around to read it, I'm so very sorry that it's taken me so long. I began to get into other things and nearly forgot about this story. But please read on and enjoy and I will try to update sooner in the future!

Neithawen's Deception

**16. Arrival**

        Neithawen awoke to a feather light touch across her lips. She shivered slightly and opened her eyes. Above her was the smiling face of her Legolas, and a smile crossed her lips before she even knew it. 

        "Ah, you have awoken, my love," he said, smiling back at her. His finger traced a line along her jawbone. She smiled again and moved to sit. Her side still hurt slightly, and in light of what had happened last night, she was not surprised. Legolas' arm reached around her to help her lean against a nearby tree. Once Neithawen was settled in, Legolas chuckled melodically. "Or, should I call you Teleadan?"

        Neithawen smiled sweetly. "My love shall be fine. But," she said, her smile fading a bit, "there is no need for the others to know of my lie. My father must never know, lest he become worried."

        "Do not fear, my love, he shall not, if you do not wish it. But it may be hard for me to keep my impish hands off of Teleadan after this night." He winked at her and stood. "However, I shall try." Grinning, he walked over to where he had built a small fire. He stooped, gathered something wrapped in leaves in his hands, and stood again. 

        "Ah, we are blessed with sunshine this morning," Neithawen said, basking in it. She leaned her face toward the heavens to feel the light upon her face and closed her eyes. 

        "You are so right, my love," Legolas said, walking back to join her. He knelt down beside her and held out his small package. "Here, eat this," he said. She looked into the little wrapping of leaves. "I've stewed some herbs. They will help with the pain."

        Neithawen smiled at Legolas gratefully and took some of the soft, wet leaves in her hands. She put it into her mouth and began to chew. As the juices flowed down her throat, she felt the pain in her side begin to flow away. She sighed and continued eating the much appreciated herbs.

        Legolas smiled. "I thought it might help." He left the herbs on the ground next to her and moved to pack their things on Araroh's back. He nickered softly when Legolas touched a long, slender hand to his flank. Neithawen smiled, watching them.

        With a small groan, she moved to stand. A pained expression twisted her lovely countenance, but she finally stood, with the help of the sturdy tree behind her. Legolas came to her side and helped her onto Araroh's back. Once she had mounted, Legolas swung up behind her and spurred Araroh into a brisk walk.

* * *

They met up with the group several hours later. Fixing her face in a masculine, stoic expression, Neithawen sat up straight and tall in the saddle in front of Legolas. They passed the elves closest to the back and smiled at them. The elves stopped where they were and stared happily at the two riders. None of them had believed Neithawen could survive her injury, but here she was, before their very eyes, healthy enough to ride a horse. Being a stoic race of people, the elves did not throw up a cheer for her recovery. However, being elves, they began to sing a beautiful song of a warrior returned from the dead. A slight hint of tears threatened to well up in Neithawen's eyes, but she suppressed them, instead adopting a masculine air as she smiled appreciatively at the singers.

        When they reached the head of the column, Legolas leaned to her in a friendly manner and said quietly, "You are loved by all, not only I." She caught his eye and gave him a look of pure contentment and joy. He returned her smile, then turned to the elves behind them and inquired, "How far ahead is the first group?" 

        "Twenty miles, at least. If we continue at our current pace, our delay will set them into Rhûn long before we will get there. Truth be told, we did not travel very swiftly in our concern for Teleadan. We sang songs of lament for him, which slowed us greatly. But I believe that we shall make good time now." 

        "Thank you," Legolas said. He turned forward again, a dubious look upon his face. He weighed their options in his mind. Neithawen watched the expressions rove freely over his beautiful face. Suddenly he turned to her and said, "My friend, would your condition permit us to quicken our pace? I should like to reach the other group before they get to Rhûn."

        Neithawen saw the lover's concern in Legolas' eyes. Determined to behave like a warrior, she said passively, "My wellbeing is not in the balance. I will survive and live to fight in Rhûn to help our world. Please decide as you see fit." Her words were crisp and slightly cold, but the glace she gave to Legolas, unnoticed by the other elves, warmed him and he knew her harsh words were meant to preserve her masculinity in front of the others. "I will be needing my mount back, however." An elf brought Rochroval forward as Neithawen dismounted from Araroh. She patted his neck and turned toward Rochroval. "Oh beautiful girl, I missed you." The horse whinnied softly and rubbed her head against Neithawen's shoulder. Legolas helped her mount and then quickly slid back up onto Araroh.

        "Very well," he said. "Send word through the company that we will be quickening our pace. I should like to reach the others by nightfall." And with that, he spurred his mount into a quick trot with Neithawen right behind.

* * *

Neithawen watched the shapely elf on the horse in front of her. There hadn't been much conversation in the last hour or two, as the path had become narrow enough for only one horse at a time, and two elves on foot. Their progress was slowed slightly by the surrounding trees and bushes, but Legolas plowed ahead, heedless of any slowing. Neithawen's mind drifted to their night of passion. It was still very fresh in her mind and helped to dull the pain of her wound. She hoped it would be nearly gone by the time the came upon Rhûn, for in elves when the pain was gone, so was the wound. The gentle loving of Legolas was healing her wound rapidly, she thought, and beamed to herself. 

        Araroh slowed to a halt and Legolas' hand came up into the air, signaling her to stop. She pulled lightly on Rochroval's reigns, who obeyed instantly. She got as close as she could to him and he leaned back to her, never taking his eyes off the road ahead. "Something stirs. Are you able to fight, my love?"

        "No, I'm afraid not. I am not yet healed."

        "Very well, you should go to the end of the line, and let everyone know to prepare for battle soon. We are nearing Rhûn and there will be much evil afoot." He turned briefly to look at her. "If only I could kiss you farewell, my love," he said, a sad smile on his face. 

        "It is only goodbye for now. I shall linger at the end of the column until I am well, and then I will be back to fight." Legolas' eyes closed as her soft voice came into his ears.         "Yes, when you are well. Until then."

        Neithawen turned her mount and threaded through the elves behind her. She let them know that there would be fighting ahead. They nodded and smiled in acknowledgement, readying their weaponry as they continued to march forward. Not long after she reached the back of the line her keen elf ears picked up the familiar clanging and crashing of battle. She closed her eyes and let the heady sound wash over her. "Soon I shall be well again," she muttered to herself, willing it to be true. The thought of her love fighting strengthened her will and resolve. She felt the areas of her wounds tingling lightly as they healed in a rapid manner. She was certain that by the time they reached Rhûn that she'd be more than fit to fight.

* * *

Maeglin spun around, his back touching that of his fighting partner Thranduil. The number of orcs that Thranduil had anticipated was vastly less than the amount that was truly there. He still knew that they would outnumber the beasts when the second company arrived, but he didn't know how long they could keep fighting them before Legolas and his elves arrived. The elves were presently spread amongst the ranks of orcs, battling and killing as many as could be found, but their numbers were just a bit too few. Maeglin called over the din to Thranduil and he sliced his blade neatly through an orc's neck.

        "When will they arrive? The elves grow weary!"

        "They should have been here now, but something must have held them," Thranduil called back. He passed his sharp blade between the ribs of a foul beast and neatly wiped his blade off onto the orc's filthy shirt. "They'll be here soon, we must have faith in Legolas as a warrior. He would not let anything happen to them."

        Suddenly, in a flash of silver and green, Legolas and Araroh burst through the bushes. "Father!" he called. Thranduil looked to him, smiled, and waved his blade. Behind Legolas an army of elves burst through the thicket to swarm over the orcs. Maeglin looked around and saw the orcs near the edge of the field retreating from the new forces. His gaze swung around to the entry point of the elves and saw a young, gallant elf appear, riding a white horse. He was slender and elegant, possessing a feminine air, but masculine at the same time. He watched as the young elf rode up beside Legolas and smiled widely at him. Legolas waved again at his father, and the elf followed his gaze. As the elf's gaze swung around, his eyes locked to Maeglin's. Shock came over Maeglin as he realized who the elf was. His beautiful daughter, in battle! As Neithawen continued to stare at Maeglin, the initial shock subsided and he began to chuckle. Trust Neithawen not to be left behind when something exciting was happening. 

        Maeglin mounted and rode to her, still laughing. His horse nuzzled Rochroval as he leaned forward to hug her in a congratulatory manner. "Your ruse I shall not break, but you could not keep it from me," he whispered in her ear. "I am glad you have come after the danger is over, for I would not have wanted you to get hurt." He pulled away from her and she gave him a sheepish smile. "My name is Teleadan," she said with laughter in her eyes. Maeglin laughed heartily. His gaze then turned to Legolas, who was hugging his father. "Well done, Legolas," Maeglin said. "You have brought the elves to us safely." Maeglin looked into Legolas' eyes, and Legolas understood he meant Neithawen. Legolas nodded slowly. Thranduil, sensing something was going on that he didn't understand, kept silent during the exchange. Then the elves began to rally together around the small group. 

        "Well done, my brothers, we have done what we came to do, now we will go home and celebrate!" A song-like call rang out among the elves, a traditional song of old that was to be sung after battle. When the chant was over, the group made their way into a line behind Thranduil, Maeglin, Legolas, and Neithawen, and began their journey homeward after the short adventure.

A/N #2: I know it was kinda short, I'm pretty sure the story will be ended soon. You won't have to worry about me not updating ever anymore lol! Probably just one more chapter and then Neith's story will be over. For now. Perhaps I'll try this character again. But I don't make any promises! However, I do promise next time to write the entire story first and THEN upload it so I don't disappoint anyone. J Until next time, my fellow writers/readers! 

JG

P.S. I changed my name from Yeuua Summoner to Jacqueline Gregory although I'm sure you all figured that out! 


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